


your heart is glowing (and i’m crashing into you)

by uwereamazing



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Tree Decorating, Fluff, M/M, Tenderness, adam & ronan being disgustingly in love, opal being very good at decorating trees, that soft barns content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21866590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uwereamazing/pseuds/uwereamazing
Summary: a look into ronan & adam’s first christmas together
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 11
Kudos: 78





	your heart is glowing (and i’m crashing into you)

When they return to the Barns, the late-afternoon sky is blushing pink above them. Ronan slams the door of his BMW shut and hears Adam gently do the same. He’s barely taken a glance at the farmhouse, now lit by his dreamt fireflies and dreamt lights, glowing hazily in the air, before a familiar shriek diverts his attention.

Opal comes scrambling from behind one of the barns and barrels into Adam’s legs, her arms instantly curling around one of his thighs. Ronan feels something soften ridiculously within him at the sight. 

“You’re back!”

Adam fights a smile, brushing a bit of mud off her cheek with his thumb. “We weren’t gone very long.”

“Exactly,” Ronan stalks around the car to the attached trailer, carrying their precious cargo. “Now help us out a little, shithead.” 

With Opal’s dubious help, Ronan and Adam untie the rope holding the tree to the trailer and carry it up to the farmhouse, a remarkable feat considering the dramatic height difference between them.

Eventually, they end up in the living room, the tree in the corner beside the sofa. Adam makes his way over to the boxes of ornaments set against the walls, Opal gleefully in tow, while Ronan gets the fire going in the hearth. Inside, more of his dreamt lights can be seen; windows lit with floating candles, golden orbs dancing above Adam’s plants, visible now that the sun is beginning to sink. 

Ronan pulls his coat off, tossing it onto the plush armchair before reaching to remove Adam’s scarf, warming at the sweet, grateful look Adam sends him. Privately, he tucks it away in his memory, to keep, then kisses Adam’s cheek, just because he can. He flings the scarf aside too. 

“Lights first?” Adam looks to Opal for confirmation, who nods emphatically. 

“Kerah?” Wheeling around, she glances at Ronan curiously.

“Over there, little puke.” 

She careens over to the furthest box, the one curiously lit from within the cardboard. It’s strange, seeing these aged boxes again. Like his childhood memories of  before, blending with the new, shiny life he leads now. Ronan sneaks a glance at Adam, now moving to help Opal, and that strange, unnameable feeling burns within Ronan’s gut. In a good way, he thinks, even despite the messy nostalgia threatening to rise inside him.

Opal reaches for the glowing lights within the box, lifting the jumbled mess out, as Adam keeps the box open for her. It doesn’t escape Ronan’s notice, the careful respect that Adam adopts as he sifts through the boxes, poring over the Lynch family’s old treasures. Adam, ever attentive. Adam, ever aware of Ronan’s unexpressed feelings, his love and grief both, the exact weight of this moment. For a second, his chest feels unbearably tight. 

“How is this still working?” Adam examines a length of bright, golden bulbs, still miraculously lit after several years of non-use. 

“Krek!” Opal exclaims. Chainsaw’s word for dream thing.

“Opal, you know English,” Ronan says. Then to Adam, “Dad dreamt it, I think. Could have been me though.” 

Ronan Lynch loved to dream of light after all, even if he had no recollection of his earliest dreams.

Taking it with him, Adam stands, letting out his surprised laugh when he notices the length of lights is just that; no cords to connect it to a power source. But he takes it in stride, heading over to their tree and calling to Opal to help him out.

“Come on, Ronan. You too.” Adam says, lips quirking.

Ronan rolls his eyes. “Hold onto your horses, I’m right behind you.”

With Opal’s debatable help once again, Adam and Ronan get the glowing lights in place, weaving it carefully around the tree. They let Opal choose out the baubles, slowly ending up with a garishly mismatching arrangement of ornaments, charmingly hanging from the branches. 

It’s a new process, somehow all at once dizzying yet grounding in its unfamiliarity. Time rolls unhurriedly like warm honey, and Ronan experiences the passing minutes in snapshots. The cozy fire distantly crackling and the sharp perfume of the tree’s branches. Opal crouching on the floor, strangely in concentration, as she loops a bauble onto the tree. The twinkling lights reflecting off Adam’s smooth, elegant face. Adam’s shoulder bumping into his. Adam’s sweet, surprised laughter. Adam’s drifting hands seeking Ronan out, guiding him, resting at his lower back, gently brushing his arms and Ronan wondering if he’ll ever stop burning up under the weight of this inexplicable, ever-present longing. 

By the time they’ve successfully decorated the tree, Ronan feels unsteady. He flops heavily onto the sofa, as Adam lets Opal down from his shoulders— the faintly glowing star, also dreamt, now placed atop the tree. 

Adam smirks, taking in his slumped form. “You’re that exhausted?”

Suppressing a laugh, Ronan extends an arm toward him. “Yes. Now, get over here.” 

He easily relents, and Ronan lifts his socked feet up so Adam can sit with him. Once settled, he lets his feet rest on Adam’s lap. One of his elegant hands curls loosely, comfortingly, around Ronan’s ankle. 

They meet each other’s gaze. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

Adam’s expression is open, curious— the faintest smile hanging around his lips, his eyes bright and clear. He looks well-rested for once, and— it’s good. Ronan feels good. He just can’t find the words for this strange emotion brimming within him yet. 

“I’m thinking,” Ronan says slowly, “that someone needs to watch Opal before she eats the tree.”

He jerks his head in her direction, they both watch as she tucks away her moon-eyed expression, dragging her attention from the tree and attempting a neutral look at them.

“You’re not subtle,” Ronan tells her. 

For a moment, Adam gives in to his helpless laughter. Then he’s moving, reaching over the arm of the sofa to snap a small twig off a branch. Ronan watches on, horrified, as he tosses it to Opal, who immediately shoves the gift into her mouth. 

Biting back a smile, Adam glances at Ronan, eyes lit with something teasing.

“Parrish. Adam. You unbelievable shithead.”

“That’s me,” he agrees, pulling himself from under Ronan and beginning to crawl up so he can tidily tuck himself on top of Ronan’s body.

Ronan rolls his eyes, but lets his fingers comb through Adam’s hair anyway. He leans imperceptibly into Ronan’s hand, seeking him out, and that unsteady wonder comes back in a rush. 

“I can’t believe you,” he adds, tracing over Adam’s ear with the lightest touch.

In response, Adam tips his chin up to look at him. “What are you really thinking about?” 

Ronan turns his head, and glances away. Outside, through the wide windows, he can see his dreamt herd of deer at the tree line, among them his white buck. He breathes in a slow inhale. The fire crackles comfortingly. His Christmas lights wink at him, washing the room golden and mellow. Somewhere, he hears Opal gnawing on her tiny part of the tree. He quashes the urge to laugh and breathes out.

His gaze finds Adam’s, patient and ever-attentive. Something moves within him.

He finally murmurs, “I’m just glad you’re here.”

To Ronan’s ears, it sounds like  _ I’m glad you are in my life. _

Adam doesn’t stop looking, even as his features soften. The transparent fondness in his face is enough to warm Ronan, more than the glowing fireplace or his ridiculously thick winter clothes. He finds Adam’s warm smile mirrored on his own face, and resists the urge to trace Adam’s mouth with delicate fingers.

“Me too,” Adam says, and it sounds like every prayer Ronan has ever uttered.

He feels himself grinning, miraculous and teasing. “You sap.” 

Adam playfully flicks his forehead, wrestling out of Ronan’s hold when he tries to retaliate. He ends up sitting on Ronan, who tries not to look too pleased with himself, failing spectacularly at it.

“I can’t believe I put up with you,” Adam tells him, very seriously.

Ronan bursts out laughing, unbelievably fond. “Come here.”

He opens his arms, and Adam fits himself snug against Ronan for the second time that evening, bodies melting against one another. Gently, Ronan tugs Adam closer, feeling him sigh softly into the crook of his neck. He feels the faint pulse of a heartbeat and briefly wonders if it’s him or Adam. Perhaps it’s both of them, he thinks, hearts beating in sync. Ronan & Adam, a well-oiled machine.

The quiet softly blankets them, warm and enveloping. Ronan closes his eyes and holds Adam in his arms, thinking of future Christmases spent just like this, of an entire life with Adam by his side and feels something within him settle into place, like stumbling into a lighthouse’s brilliance and being slowly, slowly commanded home. He buries a kiss into Adam’s hair, then another, basking in the sounds of the Barns for a while, listening to the fire crackling faintly, the gentle murmur of crickets, and the steady music of Adam’s breathing.

**Author's Note:**

> hi thanks for stopping by and reading, leave a kudos/comment if you like!
> 
> this is my first pynch fic so like...... keep that in mind if this was a little funky DJFJD
> 
> find me on tumblr @rikohateclub <3


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